


Out Out, Brief Candle (Macbeth)

by hermitknut



Series: The Shakespeare Quartet (or, three angsts and a crackfic) [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Evil Merlin (Merlin), Ficlet, M/M, Macbeth retelling, Oneshot, Shakespeare, Tragedy, vaguely anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermitknut/pseuds/hermitknut
Summary: Merlin has a destiny, and he will stop at nothing to see it achieved.One of four fics based on Shakespeare plays, this ficlet sketches out an interpretation of Macbeth.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Shakespeare Quartet (or, three angsts and a crackfic) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828492
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Out Out, Brief Candle (Macbeth)

He’d always been good at following through, Arthur had. He was always determined – some called it stubborn, and maybe that was true, but what remained was the same. He saw what needed to be done, and he did it.

And then Merlin arrived. Hopeless, hapless, meandering Merlin, whose trail of thought could change direction swifter than a kiss. And he didn’t mind it – didn’t treat the disruption as an unwelcome distraction or even a bother, he followed it! Wandered off in his mind down some happy tangent. He unbalanced Arthur, left him giddy and uncertain.

Arthur didn’t know quite how to deal with it. Stern orders did nothing; friendly explanations only evoked a blinding smile that seemed to be reflected on the inside of Arthur’s eyelids. Barked anger he tried, but couldn’t ever keep completely convincing, if the way Merlin bit his lip trying not to smile was any response. Stoic Princely behaviour invited Merlin to gently poke fun. And then…

Then there were soft kisses and warm hands. Then there were gentle words, and darkened, heavy eyes, and so many things that filled Arthur’s memory up. But Merlin… his distractions, meanderings, wanderings, they continued. And that wasn’t so bad, until the day when that which had been hidden was made clear and Arthur saw for the first time just how far Merlin had truly wandered from him.

_Magic. Sorcerer. Dragonlord._

Then there was hatred. Hatred, and betrayal, and the determination never to forgive. Arthur had always been stubborn, and this was no exception.

He didn’t know what he had expected in response – Merlin crying, Merlin broken, Merlin begging for forgiveness. All those things happened. But after none of them had an effect – after Arthur had sought to banish him, after he had tried to force them apart – Merlin changed.

He became quiet, and hard. He had a destiny, he said. And it would be fulfilled.

There was something about that moment; Arthur knew that he could change things, he could fix everything, if he had just tried – but he didn’t. And the moment was gone.

Merlin’s power flexed through the castle. He reached the point that Arthur had spent so long pushing him towards. He saw – and he did.

He saw that Agravaine was a threat, and so he killed him.

He saw that Uther was unnecessary, and so he ended him too.

He saw that Morgana was an enemy, and so he destroyed her.

He saw that the throne was empty, and so he put Arthur on it.

'No more distractions,' Merlin murmured, looking deceptively fragile in his black Court Sorcerer robes. As the members of the court left, all eyes turned away from the throne, Merlin reached up a hand and ran his fingers along the back of Arthur’s neck. Arthur felt the skin throb in response.  
  
'No distractions at all,' Merlin murmured again. 'You taught me well, my lord.'

~

When the battle arrives, Arthur barely fights. What will happen will happen as Merlin wishes – Arthur is not foolish enough anymore to believe that there is another way. So when the sword – Mordred’s sword, of course, it had to be Mordred – slices into him, through to the hilt, Arthur takes his last moments to turn to see Merlin standing a distance away of the battlefield. There is no sympathy in those hard, blue eyes. Only single-minded determination.

 _I am sorry_ , Arthur thinks. But there is no more time.


End file.
